BOBBY x 2
by clueless in seattle
Summary: One way things might have happened...


_**Disclaimer: **__All of the characters are the property of Dick Wolf. I thank him, the writers, the directors and all the great actors who brought them "to life" for our benefit. Any "liberties" I have taken with them stems from my fond admiration (and a few personal quirks I will seek "help" for)._

**BOBBY x 2**

"How old is Maxwell Mrs Yates?" asked Alex Eames as her partner Bobby Goren prowled the ground floor of the immaculate 4 bed 3½ bath in Queens.

"Almost nine weeks" the dark haired woman sobbed into the shoulder of her neighbour reported the disappearance "Eight weeks and four days"

Eames hated cases that involved missing children. So often the parents turned out to be implicated though Mrs Yates' distress seemed to be genuine as the friend helped her out of the kitchen.

Goren stood in the doorway "Lot of work Mrs Yates" he waved vaguely "These polished wood floors. To keep them so nice I mean. Almost see my face in them"

"Thank you" she sniffed as she was led away

"Bobby" sighed Eames quietly "A nine week old is missing and you discuss the state of her housekeeping?"

But she knew she was wasting her time as on so many occasions where the inappropriateness of his small talk in difficult situations passed right over his head. It might be further off the ground with a guy of his height and stuffed full of almost encyclopaedic knowledge often came in useful, but his social awareness at times was very poor.

"Actually Eames" he said bending down to inspect a socket near the door "It might be very relevant to solving this case"

"How so?"

"I found a…what do you call them…a buffing machine…in the hall closet but no power point out there" he was switching the plug socket on and off "So the nearest has to be this one"

Eames watched as he got hold of the grey flex of the appliance that was plugged into it and traced it behind the freezer.

"What has that got to with it Bobby?" she asked as he swung open the door. It was empty.

"She has to unplug this freezer to use the polisher" he removed the plug "Now she puts in the one for that" he pantomimed energetically the buffer at work which made Eames smile.

She loved the enthusiasm he sometimes brought to these mini re-constructions. The way his brow would wrinkle slightly as he worked out the steps, the order of events and the way those long legs could cross a room in four paces took most guys six and her more often eight.

"But she forgot to plug the freezer back in?" Eames concluded

"Yes" he smiled that cute sort of smile "Which accounts for all these storage boxes here"

Eames stood out of his way at the counter where he sorted through various clean containers were piled up with homemade labels like "apple puree", "Irish Stew" and "chilli".

"I expect a nine week old keeps you busy" he said in a tone was almost wistful always brought a lump to Eames' throat. Knowing what a good Dad he'd be and hoping one day it would happen for him.

"Perhaps she fell asleep or went to bed and forgot" he mused "By the time she remembers the freezer has begun to defrost…" Bobby waved vaguely at the floor before bending over and squinting "Yes…you can see the line on the granite floor here where the melting ice-water spread to"

"Oh so you can" she was on her knees herself with the side of her face on the floor "Pity about all that home cooking wasted. Bobby?"

When she got up he'd vanished. Until she heard the cat door make a sound and his gloved hand appeared through it. He stepped back inside clutching the flaps of his coat to him she assumed not to disturb any other fibres might be of forensic importance. From one of his pockets he produced one of the many useful things he always seemed to have about him at crime scenes. A small penlight he shone along the floor, the beam darting around, as those brows furrowed again. Then he made that soft sound of satisfaction told her he found what he was looking for.

"The paw prints are fresh" he said then made a loud tutting sound "People really should not allow cats on kitchen counters. Do you know Eames that after human saliva cat's feet are one of the most bacteria laden things known to science?"

"Really" she said beginning to wonder if maybe he'd lost it after all "I'll have to give up licking them. Though I'll kind of miss tongue kissing"

Bobby gave her one of those stern looks he occasionally did when he thought her levity out of place. If only he knew the effect on her was arousing not chastening Eames thought as she did some brow furrowing of her own.

"Bobby" she sighed "Maxwell? Remember? Why we are here?"

"Of course" he said going to the sink and sniffing "Could you bring her back in here and find me a wrench please Eames"

Two minutes later the two women were stood side-by-side as jacket off and shirtsleeves rolled Bobby applied the wrench to the garbage disposal mechanism. How rare it was, Eames thought, that a guy as smart as that also had practical skills as she saw it yield to his efforts. Though Mrs Yates screamed and even Eames felt quite sick as he tipped out into a bucket a dark red and glutinous mass.

"Any comment Mrs Yates?" she asked coolly thinking the mystery solved "How you faked the freezer breaking down to dispose of an infants remains with food waste"

"Not so fast" said Bobby putting his face in the bucket and sniffing hard just before Mrs Yates fainted.

The last thing Eames remembered was Bobby dipping his finger into the bucket and then licking it.

**Two weeks later**

The doctor's had assured Eames that the skull she fractured when she passed out and hit it on the granite floor would leave no long term effects and the ten day coma she had been in was medically induced to help her heal. But a full explanation for what had happened should probably come from her partner. Who it later transpired had not sat vigil at her bedside but taken some leave to go fishing and it was three days later before Bobby appeared.

The healthy glow on his skin was in marked contrast to the white of her own as he set down a box on the floor and sat by her bed.

"I…um…I'm sorry about what happened Eames" he said with that guilty schoolboy look was so endearing. Even when you had a skull fracture and it would be weeks before your hair grew back.

"So I should think Bobby" she snapped "How could you do such a thing? You are lucky you were not suspended for a stunt like that"

"I was" he said softly "But the trout were rising and Mrs Yates did withdraw her complaint"

"Her complaint!!" Eames would have shrieked except it made her head hurt "The woman put her baby down the garbage disposal and she makes a complaint about you!!"

"She didn't" he said "That's what you get for missing briefings by stopping off to get burger and fries" he rested his elbows on his knees "If you had been there you would have known Maxwell wasn't a child Eames. He was the cat"

"A cat" she croaked "So you while I was…you were…you knew…the paw prints…oh shit"

He gave her that sort of smile.

"Even so Bobby" she muttered "You still…ugh…licked the remains of a cat fell into a waste disposal"

"No I didn't Eames" he said "That's what Mrs Yates thought. That's what she complained about" he paused and sort of muttered quickly "When she got out of here after three days with a concussion"

"Oh great" she sighed "She gets concussion and I get a fractured skull. So what was it in the bucket?"

"Spaghetti sauce" he shrugged "Could have used a little more pepper and oregano to my taste but…"

"Shut up Bobby!! Just for once shut up will you?"

There was an awkward silence for a few moments as she glared at him and he looked at his feet.

"Anyway" Eames broke it "Did you find the kid… I mean the damn cat?"

"Uhuh. Deakins made me go round every stray animal pound in the city until I did. Too keep Mrs Yates happy" he glanced at her "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to take paw prints from kittens to be sure I had a match to the right one?"

"Explains those then" she gestured to the mass of fine scratches on his hands "So what's in the box?"

"Oh yeah" his ability to forget certain things was astonishing "It's for you. By way…um…of an apology" he picked it up and handed it to her.

When she opened the lid, inside and scrambling to get out was the cutest ginger kitten you ever saw as she lifted him out to hug.

"He's adorable. What's his name?"

"I thought I'd leave that to you Eames. Just don't let him on the kitchen counters because after human saliva cat's paws…"

"We know don't we Bobby" she tickled the kitten

"That's what I'm trying to tell you Eames" he muttered

"I was speaking to the kitty"

"You're naming him after me?" he asked warily

"Why not? It's a nice name isn't it Bobbykins?"

Goren hoped she wasn't speaking to him "Won't it get…um…confusing"

"Only if you tend to come running when you hear someone tapping a dish with a spoon. And the vet mixes you up when you take him to be neutered in a few weeks time"

He swallowed hard at that thought "Perhaps I should go" then reached in his pocket to bring out a bundle of foul smelling newspaper "I…um…saved the heads and tails of the trout for…for him"

"Aren't you lucky?" she cooed at the kitty "Scrumptious fish heads Bobby. What did you do with the fillets?"

There was no reply.

"I'm speaking to you Goren" Eames clarified

"I froze them" he stood fidgeting around with his jacket and hands and anything else in reach "When you get out of here…I …I er thought maybe…I would…um…cook them. For us…you know…er…if you want…dinner at my place"

"Thank you"

"And after…perhaps…see how things go…if we feel…"

"This wouldn't involve bacteria laden saliva by any chance?" Eames mouth twitched

"More the exchange of it I was thinking" he looked at her "To begin with"

As Bobby leaned forward to kiss her his namesake sprang at his face leaving a series of thin scratches from his temple to his jaw. No one at work ever believed it was a cat that did that to him though by the time they healed he had eight more. Larger, deeper and across his lower back.

He'd disabled the garbage disposal, shut the other "Bobby" firmly out of the bedroom and didn't give a damn if he was tap dancing on the kitchen counter all night long.


End file.
